I Wish
by Fxreflies
Summary: Swinging around in winter wearing only sweatpants and a sweatshirt is shivering. Trust Peter Parker: he's been through it personally. Spider-Man needs an upgraded suit for the winter or else he might just freeze to death. COMPLETE!


As he swung from building to building on his homemade web, in his homemade suit, one thought crossed his mind.

 _What about the weather?_

Winter break was coming up - extra time as Spidey - but what would Peter Parker do if it snowed? All he wore was a sweatshirt and pants. Sure, the easy option was to wear clothes under that, but they'd get in the way and he'd look bulky. He pushed those thoughts out of his head for once, and landed smoothly on the edge of a building. Peter surveyed the area.

Queens. New York. Mugging headquarters.

Thugs always ran around, hoping for something to steal, or rob especially around this time of the day - well night. It was around ten o'clock. And ever since that radioactive spider had bit him, things changed. He took advantage of the area and swept as many crooks as he could find off the ground and behind bars; but they kept coming, and they still do.

It was already the end of November. Yeah, he did have super strength, but that didn't affect his temperature. He shivered, sitting on the edge and rubbing his arms.

"Ugh," he murmured, just as an alarm went off about a block away. "Sometimes I wish there was just one easy day."

He jumped off the building, shooting a web out from the homemade web-shooter and it connected to another building, allowing Peter to swing throughout the sky. The winter breeze felt cool against his masked face. And, even though he had no exposed skin, he felt open to the people below him. They were all bundled up with jackets, wearing hats and gloves.

Yet, here he was. Swinging throughout the sky in a sweatshirt.

 _What a loser, hm?_

After he turned a corner, still plenty of feet above the ground, he saw the action. It was a car chase: multiple police cars were going after a half beaten gray Chevrolet Impala. The driver was clueless, obviously. Peter could tell the way the car swerved a turn at the last second, clearly thinking of a plan to lose the cops as time passed then and there. But Peter already knew how to lose the police, and so he shot a web higher than the rest and made a sharp left turn, just as the car about half a mile in made a left turn as well.

He glided across the building as he ran for a second for more speed. Peter then jumped off and shot another web across the street, ending his fall. He continued to swing forward before making a right turn at 43rd Avenue and there it was. The car was right in front of him.

Humbly, he dropped on top of the car that was being chased by the police, making just about no sound - well, compared to the sirens, he was like a mouse. Peter heard the person - a male - inside the Chevrolet scream something along the lines of, _"Ah! Stupid spider!"_

Peter crawled around the edge of the car, shooting small webs at all the wheels so it would slow down.

The driver rolled down the window, poking a knife out with one hand - the other still on the wheel. "Shoo!" he yelled from inside the car. Then quickly pulling his hand back in due to the weather. " _Cold_ ," he muttered just as the window rolled up.

Peter was able to easily dodge the blind stabs the man jabbed at him while driving. "Tell me about it," Peter replied to the man's mumbles. He huffed, seeing his breath in front of him as he crawled to the front of the car. "Hey, sir?" he said, dodging a sign from who-knows-where. "Sir, I'm gonna need you to...pull...over!"

Peter grunted right after shooting webs to both sides, connecting with the shops on the ground. He tied them together in a knot and stuck it to the front of the car. He repeated his process until either the buildings ripped apart, or the car stopped due to the pull.

"Come on," Spider-Man whispered to himself. "It's a school night!"

He jumped off the car, landing on the sidewalk, and shot a web at a woman in the middle of the street - right in the car's wrecking path. He pulled her to him, feeling her body heat and the softness of her jacket.

She was out of breath. "Thanks, Spidey," she said with a smile.

"No problem," Peter responded, placing her down on the ground and swinging off again.

The car had slowed down; the webs started to snap. Peter came up with a new plan, swinging in front of the car and making a huge web that blocked the path of the Chevrolet. If anything, it was going to crash into the web and stay there, stuck. Hopefully, that didn't harm the driver or send anything out, hurting a pedestrian near by.

Peter sat on top of the web-wall, waiting for the car to come. And once it did, the plan was a success. The driver jumped out and ran into a dark alleyway, shivering with the cold. Now, really in the mood for _hot chocolate_ , Spider-Man followed him. He quietly swung into the alley, his senses about to alert him of anything jumping out.

There. To his right and in front of him six feet: movement. He shot a web and a loud _"Meow!"_ scratched throughout the dim alley.

"Sorry," Peter whispered to himself, putting his hands up. "Sorry."

He wrapped one arm around himself to help with the wind just as his senses blared off. Peter spun around and shot two webs: both of the man's hands. A sound like metal falling to the floor rang throughout the alley: the knife. Peter then jumped on the alleyway's wall and sprayed his feet with webs, too. The police would walk in the alley really soon and pick up this crook, but for now, Peter wanted to get home and curl up in a blanket forever.

Oh, yeah. With hot chocolate, of course.

As he walked out of the dark alley, a cop passed Peter with handcuffs out. Peter nodded to the officer. "Got him," he said.

"Thanks for your help, Spider-Man," the cop replied.

"My pleasure."

The police chuckled. "Well, better get home and warm up, huh?"

Peter smirked, even though the officer couldn't see it. "I plan on it," he responded, swinging off.

Quickly, he made his way home. He crawled on his apartment building, opening up his bedroom window as the heat washed over him. He let out a breath that he didn't know he was hold in. _Oh, how good it felt in there._ Peter slipped inside his home, shutting the window slowly so no sound would be made. He took in a few deep breaths and looked around: the door was open and it needed to be shut.

He was still thinking about easy ways to close it, so right there he just shot and web and shut it with that. Eventually, it'd have to change because he wouldn't want Aunt May to see the webs in his room before they were able to disappear in two hours.

He rubbed his arms for warmth as he quickly changed out of his suit and slipped on a sweatshirt and sweatpants on. It felt so much better when he wrapped himself in a blanket, too.

"Hey, May?" he called out.

No response.

"May?" Peter repeated.

After a short few seconds, a voice yelled from what sounded like across the home. "Peter?"

"Can you make hot chocolate?" Peter asked. "Please?"

Another few seconds passed. "Uh, sure," Aunt May responded. "Why don't you come out here and let's talk as it warms up."

Unlocking the door and walking out like a weirdo in a blanket - which was exactly what he was at the moment - Peter entered the kitchen. His aunt was sitting in a chair in her pajamas reading a book. She had a small lamp on and was covered in a blanket, as well.

"Where were you, Peter?" she asked, lowering her glasses and closing the book in her hand so the place would still be kept.

 _Oh,_ Peter thought. _Think of something_.

"Ned's house."

Aunt May flipped the book over and set it on the small table. "Ned's house?" she repeated, cocking her head slightly to the side.

Peter nodded, repositioning the blanket around his just about ready to shiver shoulders.

She stood up, walking over to her nephew. "I _called_ Ned's house; his mom said you weren't there," she responded.

"Uh," Peter stuttered, not being able to help it. "I was supposed to go there, but it was too cold so I just cuddled in my blanket and feel asleep." He rubbed his eyes and did a small - fake, of course - yawn to add to the effect. "Sorry, May. I'll tell you next time."

She rubbed her eyes slightly. "Yeah, I wish you would tell me," she said. Aunt May then brought her nephew in a short, loose hug before walking to the kitchen.

Peter followed her in, grabbing a cup and setting it so it was ready. After a silence fell and the hot chocolate was finished, Peter excused himself and walked back into his room. After saying goodnight to his aunt, though. His bedroom door was closed now. He was sitting on the bed. Peter took a short sip of the coco even though it was burning. It...it was too good to explain the taste.

He took another sip, enjoying it while it lasted.

Peter placed the cup on a bureau and picked up his phone. A text from Ned Leeds, his best friend.

 _Dude! You could still come over? What's up, man? Internship again?_

Ned didn't know. He didn't know about Peter and his special abilities. Honesty, Peter felt bad keeping this secret from him because they were best friends. And also because Ned _loved_ the idea of Spider-Man.

On a second note, Peter had to come up with a way to stay warm. And fast because if it snowed - and when it snowed - it snows a lot. In New York, it doesn't snow unless it comes down _hard_. And he couldn't just pass up a day because of the weather.

As Peter took another few sips of the hot chocolate, Aunt May walked in.

"You should head back to sleep," she suggested. "You've got school tomorrow."

Hating to admit it, he was actually really tired. Peter quickly finished off the coco, handing the mug to his aunt and shifted under the blankets.

"Goodnight, Peter," Aunt May said as she shut the light off, placing a soft kiss on her nephew's forehead.

Peter closed his eyes as her lips touched his head. "'Night, May," he replied.

He heard the shuffle of her walk out the room and the _click!_ of the door shutting. He yawned, picking up his phone and shooting a quick reply back to Ned before sleeping.

 _Yeah, sorry._

He tossed his phone...wherever it landed and shut his eyes again, feeling the warmth of the blanket _s_ against his skin.

 _Tomorrow,_ he thought, _I'll think of something tomorrow_.

And with that, Peter Parker fell asleep. Thinking, dreaming of new, better, _cooler_ suit to wear that could keep him warmer and safer when that time rolled around. Because he was Spider-Man, and that was his job.


End file.
